Flowers in her hair

Demons in her head

Drugs in her viens

Madness in her mind

Love in her soul

Storms in her heart

Threat of rain.
grey skies like the lid of
a kettle from below.
clouds are ice from a
fish eye perspective.
I'm heading for the mountains
after work.

bringing little more than
good boots, a solid knife,
my best friend and his
owner.
love on four legs.
smiles behind every bark.
ears flapping with his running
free; scouting. herding us
through passes, across creeks.

my heart is a happy dog; stick
in mouth, world of new scents.
bonfire dreams, tapping of rain
on built shelter.
bidding the city adieu.
for days, all I can see will be
beautiful.

What kind of person
Asks to be a muse?
A sick kind of person; a sadist
But I suppose I like that
Because I keep finding them.

It’s something you can’t attain
But want more than life
That creates art.
What kind of person would want anyone
To hurt that badly?

I play with fire

Feeling blades
Their weight
Their sharpness

I play with fire

Looking at food
Taking it in
Forcing it out

I play with fire

Taking off lids
Just to smell
To forget

I play with fire

Giving myself
Tarnished my image
No longer pure

I play with fire

Standing on cliffs
One step forward
Two steps...

I've played with fire...

Focus.
Take a step back to take it all in.
Know where you stand
before you begin.

Take a deep breath and realize
we've only got so much time before we die.
Follow your passions and materialize all those dreams floating in your head.
Latch on to one of them,
and see it through until the end.

Sacrifice everything to make it happen.
Even if no one appreciates it,
even if everyone comes to hate it.
There's nothing more admirable
than taking something from your head
and creating it into some sort of event.

Challenge what they've come to know.
Sow your plants in gardens where they're not meant to grow.

Someone, somewhere, will see what it's worth,
to give that meaning to their life that they've been searching for since birth.

They'll take that idea,
and turn it into
a recipe that defines the new flavor of truth.

Progress is a constant contest with traditional norms.
Let's bury that decrepit body and leave it to the worms.
Learn, process, then send it back out.
Erase all doubt.
Let's go and change the world.